Anecdotes from the Story of the Century

Switch

If this nonsense doesn't end soon—or right now, if she had her way—she doesn't know how much more of this she can take. No, this isn't about just her; if she feels this crazy, she can only imagine how Mr. Yagami and the kids are holding up, bound and locked up like animals while she still has enough freedom to swing back and forth between school and "headquarters" with supervision. Meanwhile, Kira is back and badder than ever, and Ryuzaki's acting like it's not even happening in their plain view (for no other reason but to milk a lousy, worthless confession out of Light).

She decides to rebel through non-violent protest that borders somewhere between kindergarten obnoxiousness and passive-aggressive bitchiness. A coward like her in her situation has no other means to get Ryuzaki to see the light (as in reason, not the boy he's been obsessively watching for weeks on end). Well, there's probably the diplomatic way, but she and diplomacy are estranged cousins three times removed, and Ryuzaki…well, he's just an idiot, in his own savant way.

Her weapon of choice? The light switch to her right as she and Matsuda come into the room.

It's almost as dark as a dungeon in the room where he's watching the three on camera, shades drawn and all. She makes sure to accidentally-on-purposely flip the lights on as she passes it.

Click.

The Lord said, "Let there be light," and there was light.

She hopes it hurts his eyes enough to pull his attention away from the kids. Maybe he'll hiss like a vampire exposed to sunlight and duck under the chair he's crouched in?

"Miss Crocker, please turn off the lights." If he so much as blinks at the brightness flooding the room, she doesn't see him do it. He keeps his head and back to her, the entire time. How did he know that she was the culprit without looking behind him?

It takes her a moment to collect herself before snorting, "Why should I? I think you should leave the lights on. Watching TV in the dark, boy, you're gonna ruin your eyes, that way. If you haven't already."

"It's too bright in here. I can't see the monitors as well."

She face-palms. "See? It has already happened! If you've got such a problem with it, you turn 'em off."

"You're closest to the switch. Besides, you turned them on in the first place."

On the one hand, having Ryuzaki not look directly at her gives her enough confidence to cut him an attitude. On the other, it drives her bonkers, because he's still not paying attention. It doesn't count if he just speaks to her. One can't win with Ryuzaki. But one can try.

"You may be my captor, but you ain't the boss of me." She leans up against the wall and folds her arms, trying to look and feel tough, like one of her hard-boiled noir fiction heroes.

God forbid he gets off his lazy duff to turn them off himself, to do anything productive, really. And he can't ask Watari to do it; he's away tending to the other three captives.

So he asks Matsuda to please turn off the lights, instead.

"Huh? O-okay."

Click.

She can't help but feel betrayed, however slightly. Ryuzaki may not be her boss, but he is Matsuda's. Shucks, the reason she and he are together every day is because Ryuzaki said so.

"How's that, Ryuzaki?"

"Better." He doesn't even thank him. Naturally.

Click.

Poor Matsuda. Now it looks as though he's going to be caught in the crossfire. "Elin? He said that he wanted the lights off." Click.

Oh, how she wishes for once he'd back off. This is between her and Ryuzaki. "W-well, maybe I want the lights on." Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

ClickClickClickClickClick—

The air pops with the sound of two anxious hands flicking the switch, the staccato shifts between light and darkness causing them both to see spots. It's a wonder how they haven't blown up the fuse box, yet.

Until Ryuzaki—still without granting either of them attention—mutters, "Miss Crocker, are you finished? I'm going to have to ask you not to touch that switch again."

She blows a quick raspberry. "Or what? Is somebody gonna blow up if I do?" Matsuda breaks out into a greater sweat when she rests her finger over the device, ready to flip it. "Look, I'm touching the—"

"For God's sake, will you two quit screwing around with the lights? Are you trying to give us all seizures or what?"

One of the many maddening things about Ryuzaki is that he never loses his temper, at least, from what she's seen. Why should he, when he's got Aizawa to do that for him? He's got people to do everything for him.

(This PS is taking a toll on everyone.)

As soon as Aizawa rears his afro and magenta-tinged face, Matsuda quickly retreats like a whipped dog. "S-sorry, Aizawa."

She is equally timid. It's hot and cold with Ryuzaki, but Aizawa's frequent temper flares could make her lose her nerve every time. Jabbing an accusing finger in Ryuzaki's direction, she blurts, "He started it."

He still doesn't find them worthy of his attention. "If I recall correctly, you started it, Miss Crocker. I haven't done anything."

She pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Exactly."

Why does he think she'd done this to begin with?


Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.